There’s childhood and youth and young adulthood. And then comes middle age. I’ve been wondering when my Middle Ages are going to begin. I’ve left the Iron Age of my youth, for sure, and I have a feeling that my Roman Imperial times are drawing to an end. So, the other day, I found the answer. Three weeks from now, I will be closer to 50 than to 20. That must be my AD 409. That’s when the last remaining Imperial officials in the province of Britannia start packing their gear and no longer answer plainly when you ask them how old they are. “Thirty-something” is all they reply.

I’m going Medieval and feeling pretty good about it. The Middle Ages are a long and colourful period with many riddles that can only be answered by living through the era. And then? The Renaissance!

Just watch out for the Black Death — whatever it might be. For me it’s the fact my wife turns 40 in two weeks and wants another baby. Come to think of it, our discussions on the topic do seem to resemble the Hundred Years war.

Having recently crossed over to the less popular side of fifty, I like the idea that that makes me a Renaissance man as long as it doesn’t include various Borgias trying to do me in. Sadly, I’m rather stuck in my ways, so I fear there will be no Reformation for me.

Canīt get it out of my mind: If life gets worse over the years one would expect that life would end up in the Stone Age. Martin, imagine wading in heaps of chipped pieces of quartz. Good God, what a scary thought…

Ted, sounds like a thorny problem. But my feeling is she won’t be a very fun wife if you refuse to knock her up, while both a contented wife and a baby are sources of a lot of joy. Go for it. And while you’re at it, do a few neighbours’ wives as well!

Molly, no church for me! They won’t even want to bury me as I don’t pay their membership fee.

John, maybe you could go to Japan and be a samurai when you reach the 17th century.

Lars, no sweat, in the Stone Age nobody had to sieve, collect and weigh quartz chips.